


As Bad as it Gets

by DuskAndDawn1234



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sub Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-18 05:43:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16989126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuskAndDawn1234/pseuds/DuskAndDawn1234
Summary: Tony stark and alcohol don't mix.he's known that for as long as he can remember.he thought he couldn't get any worse, but all it takes is a half bottle of whiskey and peter parker coming over late at night for him to really hit rock bottom.





	1. The Act

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as simple smut, but it turned into something way bigger than it should have been. now i'm holding 4.6k words in my hands and i don't know how this happened. i hope you enjoy.  
> next chapter coming soon, with major angst so beware. <3 
> 
> Thank you thorkified, my friend, for making this possible :)

The drink going down his throat lacks the familiar burn that it usually accompanies, at this point he doesn't even feel it anymore while the amber liquid goes down in one swig. Whiskey. The good stuff. The bottle sits on his desk. He grabs it and looks at the label.    
  
Aged inside a cherry wood barrel, the finest. Only the best for him. He grimaces, fills another glass, drinks it down whole.    
  
He can't go on like this, he knows that. He knows more than anyone what this is doing to him. But how is he supposed to function otherwise? The blueprints sit rolled out on his work table, a new gadget on top of it, for Peter.    
  
Everything revolves around him these days. And it's not even the kid's fault. He doesn't even know. Poor little innocent Peter, unaware of his eyes undressing him at any given moment. Smiling at him and treating him like he's an angel. Peter doesn't know. Doesn't realize how  _ fucked up _ he is.

 

Staring at a sixteen year old, touching himself the moment the boy leaves, crying as he comes with Peter’s name on his lips. It's sick. It's fucked up. It's wrong.  _ But how can he not? _ The boy is sin given legs, walking around here all day with that  _ fucking adorable smile _ on his face. "Mister Stark this, Mister Stark that." So god damn polite and sweet and everything  _ he's not _ .

 

Tony is only a man, a mortal man. He can't resist it. Those soft plump pink lips, curved into a smile as he says Tony's name. Those doe eyes staring at him like he's some kind of role model. A  _ role model _ ! Him? It's the one thing he's not.    
  
He can feel the reaction in his pants alone, straining against the fabric, just  _ thinking _ about the swell of that perfectly shaped ass is making him go harder than a teen in a lingerie store.

 

"Fuck,” he growls, but just when he's about to open up his slacks and have another pity wank, the second of the evening, he hears a door opening behind him.    
  
"Mister Stark?" a soft voice calls.  _ The _ voice, the one voice he can't get out of his mind. The one that haunts him. 

  
He doesn't move, taking a deep breath as he tries to stop the world from spinning as he motions his hand. 

  
"Here, kid.”    
  
"Where?"    
  
"Here. Near the table."   
  
" Where sir? "    
  


He didn't realize he turned the lights off until he hears Peter's confused voice. Tony swallows. What a sorry sight he must make, a 40 something old man sitting alone in the dark, in his workshop, trying to drink his worries away. And somehow  _ still _ failing miserably at it too.    
  
“Friday, lights,” he groans, the A.I. does as ordered and tony hisses when his sensitive eyes get burned by the fluorescent lamps that spring on. "Lower!”

  
The lights are dimmed around 50%. Barely manageable.

 

Peter, standing there gaping like a fish on dry land, finally finds his footing again and shuffles out of the doorway. The door falls shut behind him with a soft click.    
  
"I-I’m sorry to disturb you… I forgot my flash drive for school and…” He swallows. Mister Stark doesn't move, he still hasn't looked at him and he just sits there, reclined in the leather chair, staring at the empty glass he's holding.    
  
After a pause he takes a step back towards the door, feeling embarrassed for even forgetting his drive, but even more so for bothering Tony so late at night for something that doesn't even matter.    
  
"I'm s-sorry… I can come back tomorrow..." He can feel his heart pounding so hard it's almost breaking out of his chest.

 

Peter smiles softly and comes closer. The table he was working at before is across from Tony's, the drive is still there untouched. 

  
He can smell the alcohol and it's sending shivers down his spine. White, hot, tingling all the way down as he leans in to pluck the flash drive out of the computer and stands back up.    
  
Tony is staring at him. Peter swallows again and freezes, doesn't know what to do when put under the scrutiny of those dark brown eyes. It's as if all reason just abandoned ship and left his head empty and adrift.    
  
He turns the flash around with his fingers and avoids eye contact. He can feel his knees wobble as Tony finally speaks after what seems like a full minute of tense silence.    
  
"Come here,” Tony all but breathes.

 

"W..hat?" Peter croaks. Tony cocks his head to the side and grins. There's something chilling about those pearly white fangs as they show themselves.    
  
"I said come here, kid... I’ve got some new toys for you.”    
  
  


It's the way he says  _ toys _ that makes him shudder, but his feet move forward and Peter obeys. The way Tony is behaving is strange, Peter doesn't remember ever seeing him like this before.    
  
He stops when he's next to Tony, who smiles a bit softer now and lulls his head towards the gadget on the table.

 

"Go on, feast your eyes."   
  
_This is wrong. This is wrong! it needs to stop!_ _He_ needs to stop. But he can't. Peter is here. He can smell him. Smell his innocence. Oh, he wants to devour those lips, make him scream until his voice blows out and the tears are streaming down his face. So lovely. So soft. _So Wrong!_  
  
He feels disgusting. But the way Peter bends over that table to take a look at the gadget has him inhale sharply. It takes all his self control not to moan watching the jeans stretch around the soft roundness, those globes that are right in front of him.   
  
He lick his lips, eyes traveling up and down Peter's back. The world is still spinning but Peter is stable.

 

Peter is blissfully unaware. He picks up the gadget after shoving the flash drive into his pocket. The smell of the whiskey is so strong it's stinging the inside of his nose, but he ignores it. 

  
He gets to be close to Tony Stark, that's all he's ever wanted. If it means smelling like a booze factory when he leaves he'll take it for granted. 

  
"It's lovely... a new web shooter?" he guesses, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he thinks and studies the thing.    
  
" _ You're _ lovely…” the growl from behind him makes him drop the gadget on the table in shock. But even though he feels his legs give out under him he can't turn away and walk to the door.

 

And Tony  _ moans _ , unable to hold it back, unable to save the boy the trouble of having to see his hero like this, his hand is on his groin, squeezing as he makes eye contact with Peter's confused gaze. He grins.    
How is he supposed to resist something like this... perfect... lovely... weak in the knees so heavily he's shaking. Tony levels Peter with a stare. The boy's eyes dart down to Tony's groin and back up, clearly it's doing all kinds of things to Peter's teenage body.

 

"See what you do to me.. pretty thing... walking around here all day acting so innocent... so sweet…”    
the floodgates have opened, and out comes everything. every word. every sentence he's been holding back since peter parker sauntered his way into his life.    
Peter wobbles, he has to steady himself on the table so he doesn't keel over right there.    
the words coming out of mister starks mouth are filthy and Hot and everything he could have wanted.    
he's dreaming. he has to be. he has to be dreaming. he's in bed.    
peter squeezes his eyes shut and opens them, hoping he'll wake up staring at the ceiling as usual, but when he doesn't he lets out a soft whimper.

 

That's when Tony snaps. He pushes himself off the chair and crashes into Peter, hungry, pressing his mouth on Peter's, devouring those lips in a messy, sloppy, uncoordinated and needy kiss. Peter moans, overtaken by the intensity, melting into it despite everything. 

  
Tony wraps his arms around the boy and hauls him up, sits him on the worktable and forces those legs open with his hips. It doesn't take any pressure, they go willingly, spreading like the red sea and wrapping around his hips.

 

_ Stop it stop it STOP, _ his mind is screaming at him, it's futile, he can't go back now, not while he's rutting against the boy and he makes such lovely sounds beneath him, those pale cheeks red and lips quivering as he tries to stop his whimpering. 

  
"Oh Peter... oh Peter, you're so beautiful… look at you... all hard for me, wanting me..." he growls, burying his mouth on the pale column of peter's neck, biting and leaving mark after mark. It's animalistic, It's hungry. It's  _ him _ .

 

It's him on his skin, marks, ruining the innocence Tony tried to preserve so hardly, but here he is, marking him, wrecking him, doing exactly what he hates. Turning all he touches into ruins. 

 

But his dick has a mind of his own, it's hungry, it's wanting and nothing is enough, nothing is ever enough for him. Tony  _ god-damn _ Stark. Who couldn't keep it in his pants for even a year. Couldn't save the kid he cares so much for the trouble. Couldn't stop ruining something even if it meant breaking the trust they'd so carefully built.

 

He is only a man. A man who destroys everything in search for his own needs fulfilled.    
  


He pulls back, only to breathe. Peter's lips are bruised, the boy's eyes are welled with tears. Tony yanks him off the table and sits back down in the chair, pulling Peter with him, who falls to his knees without so much as a word, biting his bottom lip. 

  
"Oh… M… Mister Stark.. oh.." the boy's pants are tight, tenting a throbbing erection. Of course he is. Who wouldn't?    
  
"Open those pretty little lips..." 

  
And open they do, no complaints, no fighting back, no cursing at him, no begging for him to stop. They just stay there, open, waiting, wanting.    
  


Tony fumbles clumsily with his belt, racing to get it off just enough so he could pull his cock out, swollen and purple, leaking already.    
  
" _ Suck. _ ” It isn't a question. It's a command. And low and behold, Peter can't scramble close quick enough to wrap those shimmering lips around him, and starts to suck.

 

Tony's mind goes blank.

  
It might be the booze, but something tells him it's the searing heat of Peter's mouth wrapping itself around his dick. It's all he can think about, all he can feel.

  
He lets out a painfully raspy moan, gasping for air as the kid begins to bob his head up and down his need. Tony's eyes drift shut and his fingers wrap themselves into light brown curls, guiding him, pushing him, pulling him. Manhandling him. And Peter doesn't object. He sucks and slobbers and chokes on Tony's dick, his hands on his thighs, grasping for something to hold onto.

 

_ Look at you now, Stark... getting sucked off by your sixteen year old intern. _

  
He growls, bucking his hips up into that mouth, panting as he shoves himself down peter's throat, who chokes. But he takes it, takes it all and moans as he's moved around. 

  
It still isn't enough. Even this is not enough.    
He pulls Peter off and takes a moment to enjoy the sight of him.    
  
_ Ruined. _

  
There's tears down his cheeks, pre cum dribbling down his chin, mixing with them, mouth slightly agape. His eyes are glazed over. It's perfect. It's his doing. It's horrible and amazing at the same time.    
  
"Speak baby..."    
  
"I… ah… ah... please..."    
  
"Please what, baby boy?"    
  
"F-Fuck me, D-Daddy!”

 

_ Sin _ . A walking god damn sin. 

  
All this time pretending to be innocent and here he is, spouting this horrible filthy talk.    
Tony gasps and moans, deep and hungry. He wants his little boy. Wants him in all the wrong ways.    
  
"Up." Another command. Peter tries to comply, legs shaking like a newborn fawn, the whole look on him completely disgusting and amazing at the same time.    
  
"Drop your pants. All of it. Naked. Now.”

 

Peter whimpers loudly, wriggling out of his jeans as if they’re on fire. All self control is out the window when he lays eyes on the beauty that lies beneath, pale skin going on for miles. 

  
_ Mine... all mine... all mine to mark and bite and use. _

  
Tony twirls his finger in the air and smirks.    
  
"Turn around. Show me your ass... show me your pretty hole..." Peter does as asked and turns around. He spreads himself, his pretty little cock dripping and swollen and ignored. Tony is the one to whimper this time.

 

"Tell me what you want..." Tony's voice softens, if only slightly. Peter is crying and trembling and embarrassed.

  
"Y-You... you, Tony..."    
  
"Come. Come get it, come closer. Daddy will take care of you and make you feel so good…” 

  
Peter seems to be comforted by that. He turns around and inches closer.

  
"I'm going to lay you over my knee and I’m going to open you up. Suck." He offers two fingers and presses them against Peter's lips, who as he shakily moves himself over Tony's knees, opens them up and sucks.

 

Once Tony feels it's enough he pulls his fingers out of Peter's mouth and presses them against the shivering hole. So pink and pretty and untouched. He pushes them inside, not waiting for Peter to grow accustomed to it. He is too drunk for that. 

  
"You're such a good boy, aren't you…” he growls into Peter's ear as the boy writhes and yelps and squirms.    
  
There's a sting of pain, he's being stretched far more than he's ever been, and despite the pain and the roughness of it, Peter cannot help but moan and squeal as they piston in and out of him in a bone breaking speed. Tony is impatient.

 

Tony scissors. Tony fucks him with his fingers. He lets the boy whimper his name over and over like he's praying, he must be. Peter's eyes are closed and his mouth is open.

  
It doesn't take long to force the boy open enough so that he can take him. Once he's ready, Tony roughly moves the kid back upright. He's shaking, he can barely stand.    
The voice in his head is back again.    
  
_ Look at him! Look at what you're doing! You're destroying him... wrecking him… making him yours. Not even the softness of all that love you supposedly feel. _

 

We a warning he grips Peter by his hips and sinks him down on his cock. 

  
Peter screams, squirms, writhes, gasps for air, like all of it is forced out of him in one fell thrust. He arches his back and he falls against Tony's chest. But still, he doesn't fight.    
  
"MISTER STARK. AH, OH GOD!” 

  
Tony lets out a howl. Peter is wet and tight and unbelievably hot against him, slick with his own spit and the wetness of Tony's cock.

  
“Fuck yourself on me. Do it!"

 

And peter does. He does as asked, slowly pulls himself off and lowers back down on the thick girth spreading him open so painfully.

 

He goes slow, Tony's hands are resting on his hips and guiding him. He can't see him but he can feel him, splitting him open. He cries as he moves down again and again, slow and careful, feeling every vein and every throb inside of him as he sinks down on it. There's endless tears rolling down his cheeks and he can't stop shaking and moaning. 

  
"M..mi..mist...mister… S..sta-" 

  
"Call me daddy, baby boy. Daddy's fucking you, real good with his cock isn't he?" 

  
"Y-Yes Daddy… Daddy!”    
  
Peter wails as Tony bucks up into him and begins to increase the pace.    
  
He doesn't think, there's no control. Soon enough he's bucking into that tight hole without caring about anything else. He grunts with every thrust, feeling his balls slap into the skin of Peter's ass and filling the room with the smell of sex and the obscene sounds of Peter slicking up and down his dick.

 

Peter is falling apart, breaking bit by bit and letting Tony use him as a living breathing fuck doll. Tony can feel his gut tightening and wraps his arms around Peter, thrusting as if there's nothing more in the world than that tight, hot hole that so perfectly fits around him. 

  
"Touch yourself... touch yourself for daddy... come all over yourself while I'm fucking you."    
  
Peter sobs, choking on his wails as he shudders and wraps his hand around that neglected dick. He wanks himself so quick Tony can barely see the movements. His mind is blurred and his conscience long since abandoned. There's no more voices now. Just need and want and more.    
Then, Peter comes hard, shooting ropes of his white spill and painting his quivering abs with it. 

  
Tony feels the tightening and sinks himself so deep inside Peter's hole he's seeing stars.

 

_ He’s milking me... oh god, he's milking me dry! _

 

There's no word for the sound he makes as he comes. Something mixed, a wail and a whimper, but at the same time, he spills himself and paints Peter's inner walls white.    
There's no end to it, rope after rope finds its resting place deep inside of the boy, so much that it's spilling out, unable to contain so much come. 

  
All those months of wanting showing itself.   
It leaks down onto them both. Peter is letting out needy little " _ah ah ah ah's_ "  since he lost the ability to speak when he came and Tony joins in on him, riding it out until he's limp and slipping out of the boy.

 

They both collapse, Peter panting on top of him. The last thing he remembers before his mind blacks out is a pair of bruised lips ghosting themselves over his cheek. 

  
"Thank you... thank you so much…” the voice says, soft and gentle and it's everything he needs to hear. Make his mind believe that this is right. That he did something good.


	2. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When tony hit's rock bottom, it's really rock bottom.  
> Sometimes regret can't be erased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful, there's angst ahead. And a lot of it.  
> once again thank you for the amazing support Thorkified, if it wasn't for you this wouldn't exist. :)

When he opens his eyes the pain hits him like a truck. Right in the head. Followed by the sickening whirling of the world around him. Spinning. Unfocused and chaotic. He rolls over and can’t hold back the spew of vomit that bubbles out of his mouth, spilling everywhere. Disgusting and warm. Tony whines and tries to pull himself away from it.

  
He manages after what seems like forever to pull himself upright, hand wrapping around the bed frame as he does so.     
  
Bed.    
He’s in bed.    
_ How did I get into bed?   _ __  
  
“Friday.. Cancel all my appointments...“ he growls, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and finding some comfort in being able to steady himself on the floor with them.    
  
“Done, Sir.”    
  
It takes him twenty horrible, stomach turning minutes to drag himself to his feet, and make his way to the bathroom, thanking his past self for stocking the bathroom cabinet with painkillers and a glass to take them with. He is leaning over the washing table, clutching the sink tightly as he fills the glass with water and downs it. He’s been here before. He knows the bottom well. Knows that it will pass, but it doesn’t make it any less degrading.   
  
After downing two painkillers and three glasses of much needed water he shuffles into his living room and flops down on the couch, a wet cloth to fight the fever off with and to make his skin feel less disgusting. When he looks down, however, he finds he’s covered in sticky white splotches. It’s all over him and it’s disgusting. Barely dried and literally  __ everywhere. 

__  
“Ugh, fucking filthy...“ he groans. Okay, it may be bad to look at but he’s been there before too. He probably got off last night and stumbled back to bed without so much as a shower.    
  
But as he starts to inspect the damage done, something changes. He can see it, the minor scratches on his skin, the bruises from where there were clearly __ legs bouncing on top of him. He raises an eyebrow and begins to frown as he looks back at the come on his chest and abdomen.    
  
“That’s... That’s not all mine, is it…?“ he swallows.    
  
But his mind is blank, far too blank for comfort. When he fails to come forward with his own memories he sighs and shifts on the couch. If he can’t figure it out himself there’s only one way he will. 

  
  


“Friday, who was I with last night?“ he asks cautiously. There’s an uneasy feeling in his stomach but he can’t figure out whether its from the horrible hangover or because of something else.    
  
“Sir...“ the AI pauses and doesn’t finish her sentence. This baffles Tony more than the cum mystery. He swallows and feels his mouth go dry again, the unsettling feeling grows stronger. This feels… worse. 

  
“Friday, who was it?“ he asks sternly this time.    
  
"Sir, I am compelled to inform you that you have committed a federal offense last night.”

  
Tony freezes on the spot, lifting the wet cloth he had draped over his eyes as he feels his heart stop. 

  
“ _ A federal what now? _ “

  
“Offense, Sir.“ 

  
“Yeah, I got that part! What do you mean OFFENSE?“ 

  
Tony is yelling at this point, but he can’t help it. His blood is running cold in his veins and he knows that whatever he did would be too much to handle. 

  
“ Sexual relations with a minor, Sir.“    
  
Tony wobbles, feeling the burn of acid in his throat as he tries to hold down his vomit.    
  
_ A minor a minor a minor _ , the words are going around and around in his head. 

  
“W… what…? Which minor?  _ Who _ ?“ he mutters, barely able to keep his eyesight from being muddled by tears.    
  
“Peter Benjamin Parker, Sir. Intern at Stark Industries, Security Clearance Level Eight.”

 

One minute he’s on the couch, the next he’s falling. 

  
_ Peter... It was Peter. Peter Parker, you filthy disgusting pile of shit! You took him, you took him! _

  
Before he can stop himself he’s on the floor, there’s tears in his eyes, the voice in his head so loud it’s hurting his ears. 

 

_ It was Peter! _

 

His brain cannot comprehend the words, he's on the floor and he's crying.

Minutes pass and they feel like hours, like days, passing by as he lays there, disgusted, fighting back the bile that's constantly rising in his throat.    
  
_ You raped him! _

 

Tony cringes. He can't remember. He might have. 

  
_ Dear god, what did I do? _

 

He stays silent for a long time, staring at the ceiling, trying to force himself to remember.    
Friday is the one that breaks the silence.    
  
"Sir?"    
Tony doesn't respond, her voice doesn't even register at first.    
"Sir?" She tries again, still no response.    
  
"Sir, if you do not respond I will contact the medical personnel."

 

"Friday," Tony whispers. Still not making an effort to move from where he's having an existential crisis. "Please tell me you're suddenly capable of making jokes." 

  
"I am not, sir. Would you like me to show you the recordings of last night?"    
  
"What?! NO! Jesus, Friday!”

  
Tony pulls himself up, finally and gets onto his feet. He can feel his chest tightening, and his heart pounding, even though he's certain he must be dead, he's in hell. It has to be. 

  
He wobbles over to the kitchen area and grabs something from the liquor cabinet, he doesn't care what it is.    
  
"Sir, I would not recommend consuming alcohol at this time, you are still recover-"

  
"Oh, please shut up, Friday. Please."

 

"It seems like you're upset with me. Would you like me to change my protocol so that you are no longer recorded?" 

  
"No, Friday."   
  
Tony trembles as he pours himself a glass. It's going everywhere instead of the glass but the little bit of liquor he gets in he swallows in one go.

 

Once the drink hits him he can feel his anxiety attack start to become milder. He waits, ten minutes.. twenty minutes. Staring at the kitchen counter before finally speaking again. He needs to know, no matter how disgusting it is. How filthy he feels. 

 

He needs to know what he did, if he raped him, if he didn't. 

 

_ God, please… anything but rape, I beg you... _   
  
"Pull up the files. Now. In front of me. Make them secured for everyone else BUT me, clearance level Alpha Tango. Do not let anyone get these files. You hear?"    
The display appears in front of him, holographic, and a video starts playing.

 

It's him, drinking, alone. There's a certain dread he feels, watching these images.    
What kind of person would he be once he saw the truth? A rapist? A molester? He whines, pouring himself more.    
  
The vile tasting shit goes down hard, he watches and watches, and his breath stops the moment he watches Peter come into view, that's when he turns the sound on. It's almost like watching an entirely different person, in your skin, with your voice, doing things that really are so many kinds of  _ wrong _ there's not even words for it.

 

_ Look at yourself. You're staring at him, letting your eyes feast on him. What kind of person does that? How could you do that?  _

  
He watches in horror as the scene unfolds. The only thing that makes him feel less sick is that it wasn't rape. Less sick or more sick, either way he feels like disappearing into thin air and staying gone. The Peter on the screen is so gentle, he dresses them both and he watches Peter carry him on his back to what he presumes will be his room. He turns the display off.    
  
It's disgusting. But it wasn't rape.    
  
The law thinks differently though, Tony knows that. 

 

Tony lets out a shaky breath. How could he ever face Peter again after this? After he forced himself onto him? Onto a minor? After he probably took the boy's virginity and doesn't even remember? Not even a clue?

 

He buries his face in his hands and tries to rub away the guilt that clings on his skin like a layer of grime.

 

"Sir? Are you alright?”    
  
"No… no i'm not.”    
  
  


  
  
  


_You ruined his future. He_ _won't want to work for you now, he'll hate you, he'll tell everyone and then May will come over and beat the shit out of you, if the cops don't get you first. And they will drag you to court, there will be a scandal. And Peter will always be known as the slut that got raped by Tony Stark. He will lose all he worked so hard for. Being Spider Man? Forget it. Everyone will know. Everyone will stare. His friends will know. His family. His future family. You'll lose him. He'll cry in court and admit he never wanted it._

 

_ And you? Oh, you will fade into oblivion like you always feared. The company will go bankrupt. Pepper will want nothing to do with it, and you, and all you'll have is money and time. Lot's of time alone. Do you think the Avengers will want anything to do with someone who took their friend's innocence? Do you? Steve will want your head, Thor will rip you to pieces. And if there's anything left, Loki will burn the remains for hurting the small boy everyone loves so much. _

 

**_And you deserve it._ **

 

He collapses on the floor again and tells Friday to lock all the doors to his apartment, to cancel all his appointments for the foreseeable future. He clutches a bottle of booze to his chest and sits there, sobbing.

 

"Don't let anyone inside…”

 

“Sir.”

 

“Did I stutter?”

 

“No, sir.”


	3. You've got a friend in me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is honest with Ned, and reveals the truth.   
> Ned offers him his help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three babies.   
> i didn't think i'd get this far, honestly.   
> thanks thorkified for being my live audience while writing this. your feedback is priceless.

 

The hours slide by without any interruptions, minute after minute dragging on and nothing happens.    
peter is clutching his phone in his hand, staring at it, willing it to go off. Nothing.    
he's been pulling the thing out compulsively all day ever since he woke up, Ned could endure it. he knows how obsessed peter is about his mentor and how needy he is to make a good impression, even something as a quickly answered message is important to him.    
  
"Pete?"    
  
"Yeah?"    
  
"The answer to question number six is?"    
"What?"    
  
"Would you put down that phone for like.. two seconds maybe? i asked you this like _four_ times."    
Even Ned, who's always on his phone, can't handle this. Peter hurriedly lays it down and snaps his attention back to the book infront of him.

"What's wrong with you man? you've been distracted all day, you keep checking your phone, are you okay?" 

  
Peter swallows, the lump in his throat clearly has no plans to leave any time soon, that's for sure.   
How was he supposed to explain this? he couldn't just come out and tell him now could he?   
_Hey ned, buddy, yeah i let **tony**_ ** _fucking_** _ **stark** raw me last night and called him daddy._   
yeah.. not happening, not in that much detail anyway.   
  
"I'm fine.."   
"Yeah and i’m _the hulk_ ”  ned chuckles “I can see you're not fine spidey. be honest with me dude."   
Ned is closing his book and focusing on peter entirely, that's when he realizes there's no getting out of this one.  
Peter sighs, closes his textbook too and shoves it aside.   
His eyes flicker to his phone and then back to ned, he might as well just come out and talk about it.   
Peter was grateful they were in his friend's room, and not somewhere like a library or something.   
  
"I.. well.. look you have to promise to tell _no one_ "   
  


Ned gives him an eyeroll and nods. "Yeah dude, i won't tell anyone.. now go on you're making me anxious"    
Anxious is the right word, peter has been feeling off all day, sweaty hands, his heart pounding in his chest. For a while he thought something was wrong with him.    
  
"I.." peter takes another deep breath "I had sex with tony last night"

Ned fucking  _ chokes _ on his own spit and nearly yeets his textbook through the room. he's visibly shaking, and he looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his skull.     
" _ YOU WHAT? _ "    
  
"I had se-"    
" _I HEARD YOU BUT I DON'T BELIEVE IT_ "    
  
Peter groans and buries his face in his hands, feeling all hope of living this down slip through his fingers like the sands of time.

"Well.. you better. because it's  _ true _ " peter hisses, slowly realizing that ned might not have been the best person to share this with. shit, he should have gone to MJ, maybe she'd be more understanding. But as he thinks it over, she probably would react quite the same way.   
  


"You're staring, are you waiting for me to turn into a bat and fly away?"    
"I'm waiting for the  _ rest _ "

"Rest? there's no _rest_. that's it."   
"You are shitting me right. tell me about it. what happened!"   
  
Peter raises his head only to glower at his friend with the purest, most seething stare he can muster in his current state.   
"You really want to know the details? fine.. i came to the lab because i forgot something, my flash drive. he wanted to show me something and.. t..then he kissed me. and.. well.. the rest is just too much to talk about right now."  
Ned is grinning, widely, leaning on his palms like it's story time at school, and he's _waiting_   
Peter shakes his head firmly.   
"No, that's it, that's all i'm saying. we..we had sex and that's it."   
  
"That's it."   
"Yeah that's it. I don't understand why you are so interested in this."   
  
Ned gasps, offended, or at least feigning to be.   
"Why? oh i don't know, maybe because i've had to listen to you _fawning_ over the dude for like a year now. you are obsessed with him and now you tell me _you two had sex._ "

Peter cannot object to what he’s saying, he  _ has _ been fawning over tony stark for a long time, longer than ned knows about, longer than should be legal. he'd been so shocked after he was saved by iron man, but he fell in love with tony stark as a whole, he couldn't have avoided it. he was everything he wanted, everything peter liked in a man.    
and then the internship happened. everything fell apart after that, along with his composure, every time tony was around he would stumble over his words, and his face would flush so much he was giving off heat.    
  
"Yeah.."    
he grabbed his phone again.    
still nothing.    
  
"Oh.."   
Ned's grin was starting to fade.    
"He hasn't talked to you since?.."    
  
"No.." peter felt the pit in his stomach double in size.

 

"Well maybe he's busy, you know how he is."    
Ned tries, he really does, and peter manages to smile, his friend is really his one point of support. Maybe he is busy, maybe he is waiting for me right now. it could still go either way.    
he chuckles. why is he even worrying? but the feeling won't go away, he can't shake it off, something is wrong.

"He was drunk." peter blurts out, as if he just realized that little fact himself.    
his eyes widen. he bites his lip.    
  
"Oh shit.."   
"What if.. what if he doesn't remember?"

 

They sit in silence for a while. Neither really knows what to say.   
Peter leans back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. His phone is eerily silent, even for a normal day, there's nothing coming in, absolutely nothing. And it's making him feel so anxious he almost wants to throw it in the trash first chance he gets.    
Finally Ned chimes in with his solution.    
"Message him."    
"Ned.. dude.. no.."    
  
"Why not? you had  _ sex _ i'm sure a text won't make him think you're unprofessional"

 

"If he doesn't remember then i'll be making myself look like an idiot!"    
Peter huffs, shaking his head again and picking up his phone, checking it just because he has to.    
  
"Well i said a text, i didn't say  _ Ask him how he liked your ass _ "

Peter is the one to gasp this time, and he threatens ned with his textbook, holding it up as if he's going to slam him in the face with it.    
he couldn't possibly send him a text, right? it would be weird. it would be. besides he would have to go up to the tower tomorrow and face tony  _ again _ so he could wait.    
but he really couldn't.    
He sets the textbook back down and closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing.    
  
"Keep it lighthearted. that's all i'm saying. if he doesn't remember then there's no harm done, if he does then maybe you guys can talk more."

Ned's words make sense. peter knows they do. after all what's the harm in checking up on tony really? maybe he was afraid for the answer that would come, maybe he didn't want to know whether tony remembered or not. Maybe he was afraid tony regretted it.   
Did peter regret it? No.   
_But what if tony did? What if he wasn’t good enough? what if he had fucked up somehow?_   
  


The phone was heavy as he picked it up, heavier than it had been before, as if all the weight on his shoulders had somehow crept along his arm and collected in the phone instead.

"I don't know what to say" he admitted, and Ned gave an understanding nod in response, he got up and moved to sit besides his friend, so he could better help him write this somehow, so very difficult, text message.    
  
"Alright, how would you usually send him a text? what would you say?"    
"I'd say hello, ask him how he’s doing? And.. i don't know.."    
  
Ned groans and shakes his head.    
"Go on, write that then."    
"What if it's too casual?"    
"Just  _ write it peter _ "

He opens the phone, unlocks it and taps the messenger app, tony's phone hasn't been online in forever, since yesterday. Peter shudders.    
What if he isn't okay at all?    
"Peter. please. for the love of god just say  _ Hello _ "    
"Okay okay.. geez.."    
  
He finds his courage in the form of neds hand squeezing his shoulders as he types away in the messenger app, he decides on a soft ' Hi mister stark ' as an opening, then follows it up with a regular ' i was wondering how you're doing ' and ends it with a careful ' i hope you're alright. '    
His heart is pounding in his throat, and he feels like he's going to pass out. Right when he's about to delete it all again ned grabs the phone and presses send, earning a frantic 

"WHAT THE FUCK NED" from peter before handing the phone back. Not even sorry one bit, the guy smiles.  _ Smiles as if this is the most normal and regular thing in the world.   _   
  
  


"There. now it's done.“  

Peter can’t remember a time where he wanted to scream and sob at the same time as much as he did right then. 


	4. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to escalate for both tony and peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Thank everyone for leaving replies and kudos! it's really overwhelming to have so many people reading my written work. i hope you enjoy this chapter too <3

Hours pass.    
he can't remember if it's hours. it might be minutes,  _ shit _ , it might be days.    
he hasn't moved. still he sits there glued to the floor, the bottle is half empty again, he abandoned the glass after the third round, it sits deserted a few feet away from where he threw it, sending little splinters of glass flying in every direction.    
he hasn't moved, he hasn't cleaned it up.

 

the tears kept coming endlessly, until they stopped, he didn't have any more left to spare.    
he just sits there, waiting for an end that doesn't come. he debates doing it himself, the roof should be high enough, he could end it right now. Be rid of it.    
  
_ But what about peter. what about his anger. His justice. Does he not deserve more than that? _

And it's true, he does. Tony doesn't want to face him, but the boy did nothing wrong.

 

The bottle seems to be his only friend, Tony is certain that any moment now his door could be broken down. A .S.W.A.T.  team swooping in to take down his ass, probably give him a good few kicks before they drag him off to jail. And then what.    
  


_ You know what they do to people like you.. rich..spoiled.. touchy with boys. _

 

He lets out a breath that's far too unsteady, it shudders as it leaves his lungs, the glass tip of the bottle allows him to sip easily from the disgusting brew that's in there.

He turns it around to see what's on the label, but finds his eyes are stinging and welling up with unshed tears, so much that he's unable to read the fine lettered print on the red background paper.    
he rubs his eyes with his free hand, before trying again.    
eventually he gives up.    
"F..Friday" his throat hurts, the vomiting and the constant acid reflux having done heavy damage on his vocal chords.    
" _ what is this _ ?"

"A bottle of Gin sir. given to you by the major of new york at last year's christmas party."    
Tony groans and falls back against the cabinets he's sitting in front of.    
"Ohhh.. so  _ that's _ why it tastes like  _ shit. _ "

 

It's not even worth it to drink the rest. Slowly he begins to move onto his knees, the world starts spinning again, it was at a steady wobble before but as soon as he moves there it goes again, like someone tossed him into an air vent and he's bouncing around in zero gravity.    
After battling with his senses, the floor, and the wall on the way up he tosses the bottle in the sink.    
he's numb. he can't feel his face, or his limbs, all he knows is that he needs to get the filth off of him, somehow.

The shower is miles away, or inches, or both, he doesn't know. his feet will only carry him so far and everything is distorted, by the time he reaches the bathroom wall he is hanging onto it for dear life, trying not to fall. the last thing he needs with his impending doom is a head wound and a concussion.

He opens the door to the bathroom and stumbles inside, the sink provides him with something to hold onto as he slips out of his grey sweatpants.    
Grey. Sweatpants.    
I was wearing a suit yesterday.

He whimpers when he realizes the kid, even after what he'd done, had undressed him, taken his clothes and then replaced it with grey sweatpants, clean ones.

" _ God baby boy _ .. you're too good for this world..  _ too good  _ "

Whatever you do. Don't think about him.    
It was already too late. his mind began to wander. He could see the soft pale cheeks, and that beautiful fucking  _ smile _ , those soft eyes looking at him like he was the whole world, like he was made of gold.    
he swallowed.    
"I don't.. i don't deserve you. i never did.."

 

_ Having another pity party are we? _

 

He kicks the sweat pants off and clutches the shower brace as he turns on the water with a press of his thumb against the recognition scanner. it starts running his favourite program, the one he uses every time when he’s like this. Drunk. Anxious. Upset.

It's like rain, the whole ceiling is his shower head. The water is warm but not  _ too  _ warm, luke warm would best describe it. 

  
_ Enjoy it while it lasts.. soon you'll be bathing with murderers. but then again murder is not a stranger to you,  _ **_is it._ **

 

" At Least...i'll look better than most of them.." 

He scoffs, running his hands through his damp locks and getting rid of the product that's still in it, it all washes off, so easily.    
But he still feels unclean.    
He tries to grab the soap. It goes flying, he gives up on it immediately, he's not going to run around trying to catch it, especially when he’s drunk. 

He simply reaches for the next one, a bottle of shower oil. It's lavender scented, he lets out a sigh and lets the soap pull into his skin.

 

It washes off and everything smells like lavender, the whole room smells like it.    
It's such a soothing scent, it almost takes the horrid taste out of his mouth. Almost.    
It's there to stay. Even after brushing his teeth like there was no tomorrow, it sticks.    
Maybe it's his conscience.    
It probably is.    
  
He watches as the soap suds swirl around the shower drain and disappear into the black void that lies beyond. And he secretly wishes he could go with them. He feels like a bubble ready to be popped anyway, so why not float into death's embrace just like that. Pop. And be gone.

 

_ why isn't the police already here?  _ __   
  


He steps out of the shower, water dribbling down his stomach and his legs, pooling around his feet wherever he steps. He almost slips, twice, but manages to keep himself from breaking his skull on the rigid tiles of the bathroom floor.

The oversized towel goes great with his self loathing, he wraps himself up and dries his hair with a smaller one. He looks a mess, but at least it mirrors how he truly feels. A mess.    
The spinning has stopped. The world finally choosing a side to stick on and staying that way, the shower was a good idea, he thinks to himself. 

  
As he makes his careful way into the living room again, his inner musings are cut off by the familiar  _ Ping! _ of his phone.

Tony freezes. He stares at his phone. It's laying there waiting, the display is glimmering with colours letting him know he's received a text.    
His eyes dart to the clock that's hanging on the other side of the kitchen.    
It's 2:30 pm. His meetings are cancelled, his phone is on  _ don't disturb _ with only one exception.    
__   
_ Peter's number  _ __   
  
He shudders.    
How many times was he going to have a near heart attack today? right now we're going strong at 5 times already.

 

_ Pick up the phone. do it. read it and weep fucker. Face your fears and your wrong doings. he probably called the cops. or worse, he called may and she's on her way over here. ready to break this tower down brick by brick to get to you. and she will. _

 

Tony feels his heart pounding in his chest again, he doubles over, panting.    
"n-not now.  _ please fuck not now! _ "

He knows what's happening, he doesn't want it, he  _ really _ doesn't need it. But a panic attack is not something you can just will away.    
He stumbles back to the bathroom, it takes a while. His vision is muddled by more than the alcohol in his system this time. It's like looking through a fish lens trying to make sense of what's close and what's not.    
  
His chest is tight.    
_ I can't breathe! I can't breathe!  _ __   
By the time he gets to the cabinet and pulls out the anxiety medication he is sobbing, the tears making their way down his face and catching in the hairs of his beard.    
  
The pill is bitter. It sticks under his tongue and stays there.    
  
_ Focus on your breathing tony.. focus. You're not dying. You're okay.  _ __   
  
He stumbles to the bedroom and collapses there, on the clean side of the bed, he doesn't hear his phone go off as he plummets into a deep dreamless sleep. Induced by the heavy drugs he is forced to take.

 

-

 

_ There's no response.  _ __   
He waited an hour, two hours, another thirty minutes. The message is received, but left unread.   
It hurts something deep inside his chest, buries into his skin, filling him with guilt where there was confidence.    
Leaving him empty handed.    
He went home, Ned and him weren't getting any further with homework and they had decided to call it a day.    
Ned urged him to call tony, and he did, but there was no response to that either. And at this point he was too afraid to try again.    
  


_ What if he picked up? What should i say? Hi mister stark sorry i just wanted to know if you remember fucking my brains out last night.? No? Oh great well see you tomorrow  _ __   
  
Peter swallowed, the sun was going down, it was getting late. Tony's meetings usually didn't go on later than six pm. It was six thirty.    
  
Still nothing.

At around seven pm his mind was starting to drive him insane.    
Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Something wasn't right. But what.    
  
_ what if he regrets it.. you know how badly he thinks about himself. You know how he is.  _   
  
He tried to distract himself from thinking down that road, he tried reading. Tried listening to music. He even pulled out his little book with unsolvable math problems so he could take a crack at them.    
  
His mind was occupied. it wandered straight back to tony.    
  
"Shit.." he cursed under his breath as he picked up the phone again and glanced at the clock on the display, Eight pm.    
  
This isn't right.    
Mister stark never leaves him on unread.    
__   
_ What if he hurt himself?  _   
  
Peter shudders.    
"He's a grown man.." he argues with the voice in his head. But it is more cunning then he realized.    
  
_ what if he drank too much.. what if he slipped.. what if he got into a fight. What if something happened in the lab  _ __   
  
His breathing was racing now, thinking of all the possible things that could go wrong.    
  
**What if the arc reactor stopped working**

 

He nearly yelled, almost threw his phone at the wall.    
He didn't, instead he activates the display with trembling fingers and opens the call function.    
The number was still in his recently dialed list. He tapped it and held it to his ear. Waiting with baited breath while the dial tone continued for what seemed like forever.    
  
" _ You have reached the voicemail of Tony stark, please leave a message after the beep, including your name and number and i will try to reach you as soon as i am able. Thank you. _ "

He calls. And calls.    
Eight times in a row.    
  


No response. Nothing. Finally he snaps.    
" Friday. "    
The phone makes a little sound, it's a stark phone and it's connected to friday's mainframe for easy use. He needs it when he's in the lab, tony made sure to only give him the best.    
  
" Parker, sir. "    
  
" Friday i need your help. I am trying to contact Mister stark and he's not picking up. Can you contact him for me? "    
  
" I am afraid that is not possible sir. "    
  
" What do you mean not possible? " peter's voice breaks a little, he is pacing through his room.    
  
" I have been ordered to not disturb Sir stark at this time. Do you have a clearance code for an override of this order? "    
  
" No.. i don't. "    
  
" I'm sorry peter. "    
  
" Can you at least tell  me he is okay? Please Friday i just need to know he's safe. Please. It won't bother him at all. "    
  
" I am not permitted to share his state of being at this time. "

Peter groans, frustrated. 

" Alright Please.. just.. one thing. Is he in the tower or not? "    
  
" Tony stark is currently at the Stark tower, penthouse. "    
  
" Jesus christ finally "

 

He doesn't waste any time, he's already grabbing his backpack and his jacket and racing down the stairs. He has never felt so anxious before. It's something entirely different.    
  
" Alright, Friday i'm coming over. If you won’t let me contact him i'll do it myself. "    
  
" Tony stark has restricted access to all of the entrances to his penthouse. "    
  
" Then i'll just have to break down the door. "


	5. Remedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter.  
> that was a shit load of words holy shit.  
> Thank you thorkified for your continued support :) 
> 
> I hope you all like it!! <3

The streets of new york are still alive, but it's getting late. And it's particularly breezy tonight. The freezing air is pulling at every part of him, and as much as he hates being cold like this he pushes on, the tower is 20 minutes away if he hurries up.    
  
He does hurry, he pushes through groups of people and gets shouted after for being rude.    
And yes, normally it would make him feel something. Anything. But he keeps going.  _ Faster. Faster _ . His feet land in a puddle, the fabric gets soaked by rainwater, he doesn't even look.    
  
Faster is not fast enough.    
He feels like a magnet, being attracted to his other magnetic half, unable to stop himself from going along even if it means crashing into everything along the way.  He crosses the streets, darts through alleys, knowing the fastest way to the tower in every direction. His city rat status finally helping him, because he knows every street from memory at this point.    
  
_ What if he's lying there. On the floor. Trying to get help. Where were you? Worrying about things that don't matter while tony is dying on the kitchen floor, gasping for air. Alone.  _

 

It takes him 15 minutes to reach the tower, it's mostly dark, with a few random windows illuminated. The penthouse above is pitch black, and peter feels his heart drop.    
__  
__ What if he's dead. What if he's dead. What if he's dead.   
  
Its insane, part of him knows it is. But he cannot shake the dread that has him in its grip.    
There's tears in his eyes as he runs up the stairs. Taking two steps at the time. Three. Four. His lungs are burning, his heart is banging against his ribcage, ready to burst out.    
By the time he reaches the top level of the tower he is so out of breath he has to steady himself against the wall so he can catch his breath, passing out is not what he needs right now. 

  
\- 

 

" Sir. Mister parker has entered the building. "    
  
Tony stirs, pulled from a deep sleep by the familiar voice of his A.I.    
" Mhm...  _ What? _ " he grumbles, still not making an effort to move from where he's laying, and still half naked, with a towel around his waist. His drug induced coma was nearing its end as his liver does the best job it can filtering everything out.     
  
" Mister parker has entered the building. He has requested contact with you several times. You have 14 missed calls. "

 

Tony opens an eye. As if it would help him hear better with his eyes open.    
But he just can't seem to process that information. His brain, still overloaded from his panic attack struggles to take in the information that is being so roughly pushed upon him.    
It's like filling a bucket of water that's already full. It just spills over onto the floor.    
  
" _ Wait... _ "    
He rubs his face and slowly rolls onto his back.    
" Parker.. building... _ WHAT!! _ "    
  
That's when it hits him, he springs up from where he's laying and jumps to his feet.    
" What do you fucking mean  _ he's here?! _ " he's yelling. It's inevitable.

 

" Peter parker has tried to contact you 14 times by calling you, and once via text. He has also asked me to contact you for him. I was told not to let anyone disturb you. "

Tony is hyperventilating again. And this time the source of all his fears and dreads is walking up the stairs. 

  
And he's Butt ass naked    
  
Tony tries to calm his breathing, but fails miserably. He grabs a clean pair of joggings, black ones, and a sweater, at least he won’t be walking around in his birthday suit when peter forces his way inside.    
But it still doesn't solve one huge fucking problem    
  
_ What do i do? He's coming. Why is he coming?  _ __  
  
" Friday. Where is he now? "    
  
" He has reached the penthouse level and is walking towards the door. "    
  
" __ Oh fuck oh fuck shit fuck! " 

Tony is pacing, hands in his hair. 

  
_ Peter why..oh baby boy what are you doing here.. don't you realize what i am? What i did to you? Or did you come here to kick my ass?  I'll let you baby.. you could wrap your hands around my throat and snap my neck, i'd let you do anything. _

 

_ - _

 

_ What the fuck was your plan ? _ __  
  
All the way over to this point, right here, where he is standing he had only one goal in mind. But now that he is actually standing in front of the large door he is starting to realize he hasn't thought this through at all    
  
_ Way to roll head first into your own problems like that peter.  _ __  
  
He stands there. And his mouth is running dry. There's no guarantee tony will even want to speak to him.    
_ what if he's with someone else? What if you mean nothing to him! Just a quick fuck only good for when he's drunk!  _ __  
  
He swallows. But it doesn't help, his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper.    
There's so many options and possibilities that he feels like he's standing on a trap door. Anything he does could ruin the rest of his life. The rest of his connection to tony, and any hope of  __ actually being with him. 

There's only one way to find out, and it’s not by standing here debating everything.    
  
He closes his eyes and knocks, it echoes through the hallway. And peter is trembling.    
There is no response.    
  
He knocks again.    
  
" Friday. Open the door. "    
  
" I'm afraid i cannot do that "    
  
" Friday. It's me. It's not a gang member or an intruder. It's peter and i want to go inside. "    
  
" Mister stark has denied access to everyone, including you. "

 

-

 

_ He wants inside. _ __  
  
Tony can hear him. And god fuck  _ this isn't good. This isn't right. Oh no this is bad.  _   
He can hear the tremble in the boy’s voice, it is slight, but it's there and he's known him long enough to know the kid is upset. Frightened even.    
  
_ He wants in.  _ __  
  
_ Look what you did to him. Back for more. More abuse. More filthy whispers coming from your lips. You let him get too close and now he depends on you. Desperate. Desperate for you. You sorry sack of shit.  _ __  
  
He whimpers to himself, crashing through the window seems like the best option.    
But he doesn't. Once again stopped by having peter seeing the whole thing. And knowing peter he would rather blame himself than see tony stark for what he really is.    
  
_ A predator? a murderer? a monster?  you are all of those and more.  _ __  
  
" Please go home.. please..go home.. go to your aunt and stay. __ Stay away from me "    
  
He whispers it as he paces the room, panic making his throat so tight he can barely swallow or breathe.

 

-

 

" Fine.. if you wont let me in i'll just.. i'll make him hear me. "    
  
" It would be best if you left sir "    
  
" Don't you tell me that! I think i'll decide what's best! "    
  
He grits his teeth, becoming more and more upset at having to wait by the door.    


_ Why won't tony open it?  _ __  
  
" Mister stark? " he calls out. His voice cracks. He doesn't stop.    
  
" Mister stark please ..  __ please open the door. It's just me. "

 

-

 

_ He's calling you.. listen to his voice. You broke him. And he wants more. He needs more. You ruined him. Now you shatter him even more, right when he needs you, you turn your back on him. worthless.  _ __  
  
Tony opens his mouth to speak.    
Nothing comes out.    
He feels his resolve starting to fade.    
  
_ Oh baby boy i ruined you.. how can i fight you.. i love you fuck i love you  _ __  
He whimpers again and feels his feet starting to move.  __  
  
__ No no no no! Let him hate me! Don't open the fucking door!

 

_ - _

 

" Mister stark!.. "    
There's still nothing.    
  
"  _ Anthony! _ " 

Peter is crying out at this point. 

 

Tony's knees buckle.    
His name. His full name. It's been years.. decades.. since he heard it coming from someone else's lips.    
  
_ Baby.. oh baby.. you got me..  _ __  
  
The handle is cold against his skin.    
He takes a deep breath.

The metal clicks as the lock is turned, and the door finally sways open.    
  
"  _ Anthony _ "   
Peter lets out a choked sob.    
He doesn't wait for the door to even fully sway open before he bursts inside and falls into something warm. Something soft.

Tears are rolling down his cheek, and settling in the fabric of tony’s sweater. And as the boy desperately falls into his arms tony does the only thing he can possibly do. His arms wrap around the cold fragile boy. And he holds him, burying his face in those light brown curls and closing his eyes. He is weak. He is tired. He is sick of resisting. How can he refuse something so pure like this? Resist the irresistible?    
He doesn't know when he started crying. But now they both are. He can feel peter's body shaking, and how it shudders with every heart wrenching sob that leaves his throat.    
  
And tony joins him.    
  
_ Fuck.. i'm only a man. I'm only a man. I can't do this _

 

" Why didn't you answer! Why didn't you pick up your phone! I was so worried about you! "    
  
"  _ I'm sorry.. i'm so sorry.. i'm sorry  _ " his voice is barely there, a shadow of his usual boisterous image. He is a broken man. A broken mortal man with his heart open and vulnerable. No one has ever seen him like this, broken and weak and faded, he would always hold up a mask. Even rhodey and pepper never got to see him  _ this bad.  _ __  
__  
_ See what you do to him? saddling him up with an old broken man, what good could you possibly give him? money? that’s all you have. He won’t be happy with you. He won’t be satisfied by you. He’ll leave you in the end.  _ __  
  


Neither of them moves for a while, they just stand there holding each other and both crying. Peter is the first one to stir, he pulls away slightly, only to try and look tony in the eyes.    
What he sees, it churns his stomach.    
  
" you're all pale..  _ oh god _ .. " his hands move up to cup tony's cheeks in them. He's cold. He isn't well. He's crying and he looks so utterly lost. 

He has never seen tony stark cry. Let alone look the way he does.    
_ Broken.  _   
  
" Tony.. what.. what's wrong? "    
Peter's anger fades, so easily, it transforms into worry, into regret.    
It was clear tony hadn't been off partying. He was hurt. He was in pain. Peter felt guilty for even thinking tony would just leave him hanging like that. 

Tony smiles, it's a fragile and wobbly one, but it's the first one he's had all day.    
  


_ Oh baby boy.. so worried over me. An old man. A bad man. Your hands are so warm. Oh why did you have to come?  _ __  
  
" __ Everything "

 

Peter shakes his head slowly.    
He doesn't understand. But he won't press him further. He takes tony's hand and begins to guide him to the couch.   
There's glass under his sneakers, it cracks and snaps into even smaller pieces as he walks over them.    
  
Tony doesn't fight. He cries. There is no end to the tears.    
_ How can he still care? Why does he care? Does he not realize what you are? What you will be? You cannot resist.. even now you want him. Think of him.  _ __  
  
" Peter " he whispers.    
  
The boy smiles at him and helps him down to sit on the couch. And like a robot, he obeys.    
" Sit.. i'll get you some water.. you look pale as a ghost! "

 

Peter rushes to the kitchen area, the glass is everywhere, it stings to know tony made this mess and didn’t even care enough to clean it up. 

He grabs a glass from the cabinet and fills it.    
He can hear tony sobbing back on the couch and his heart breaks every single second he has to hear him make those sounds.    
  
_ What happened.. is it me? Is it us?  _ __  
  
He skitters back over to him and kneels down in front of tony. Handing him the water. His usually steady hands tremble as he takes it.    
  
One sip.    
Two sips.    
The glass shakes so much that he has to give it back.    
  
And then there's just him. Peter. And silent tears rolling down his face.    
  
" Tony.. " peter is the one who speaks first.

_ you don't deserve this. You don't deserve his love. His care. His help. You're taking advantage of him, look at him! Distraught! You're so needy for attention aren't you  _ __  
  
" Peter "    
  
" Why are you crying.. ",   
  
" _You.._ "    
  
Peter blinks and shakes his head.    
"Me ? "

 

" It's you.. i.. " tony closes his eyes and buries his face in his hands.    
" I hurt you... i took you... i should never have touched you but i couldn't _ i couldn't fight it anymore!  _ "    
  
Tony is sobbing again and peter is staring at him, dumbfounded.    
  
_ Dear god i'm only a man _

And there it is.    
The truth.    
Hard, simple, and out in the open.    
  
Peter stares at tony, confused, lips slightly parted. All this time tony thought that he hurt him that he somehow took advantage of him. Little does the man know that peter wanted it, needed it, probably just as badly as tony did.    
  
" Stop... "    
Tony sniffles and wipes at his face, trying to make his eyes stop from tearing up.    
  
" Anthony.. you.. you didn't hurt me.. you didn't take me against my will.. i.. i wanted it.. "

Tony is the one to stare now.     
Confusion, that's the only way to describe his expression. As if he had expected a whole different answer.    
It throws him off.    
In all the possibilities he never once considered that peter had no regrets whatsoever    
He gapes at peter.    
  
" You... i... "   
  
Word's are not enough. Peter knows. He leans closer, hands leaning on tony's thighs, and he kisses him. Soft. But longing.

The softness of his lips, the way they tremble slightly against his own. the brush of his hands against his cheek. it's too much. tony is in shock, he is frozen, a statue made of bronze, but the warmth that is in the kiss slowly makes him stir, brings him to life as if by magic, his hands move too, and his eyes flutter shut.    
Peter is so close now, so agonizingly close, he can smell the bubble gum scented chewing gum, it mixes with the smell of his clothes and the natural scent of his skin. like an erotic cocktail of sensory overload.

_ Stop. Stop it now. It has to stop.  the voice screams again Look at what you're doing. Be the better person. be the stronger man. you have to be strong!  push him off. tell him you can't! tell him he's too young. anything. ANYTHING. STOP! _

But he doesn't, and even as the voice continues to scream at him, he can't. His arms slowly begin to wrap around the smaller frame, and he finds it is eager to be held so tight. it's like the kiss of death.   
Tony knows for certain the kid will be the death of him. something like this shouldn't exist. Shouldn't be so goddamn  _ good _ . peter is kissing him like he's trying to steal his soul, it started sweet, but it becomes desperate, needy, clingy. There's hands fisting the fabric of his sweater, moans, whimpers, soft little sounds, he eats them whole, slides his tongue inside and claims him, every little noise sending his blood down to his cock, making it twitch.

 

They break apart slowly bit by bit, only for them to breathe, before they go back in again. Moths attracted by the flame, the insatiable pull of lust and desire, how could any of them resist when the reward is instant and so pleasurable.    
it seems like they've been at it for minutes, no words spoken because they no longer need them, they have transcended above. And for a moment heaven is a place on earth, and it is right there, in peters arms, on his couch.   
  


Finally, the kissing stops, but neither of them makes a move to back away. there's no rushed apology, no shyness, no frantic sobbing. it's just them, in the dimmed lights of his living room, staring into each other's eyes like there's a universe behind their pupils, and the soft panting they both do as they brush together softly.    
They sit like this, their noses brushing together.    
Peter is the first who smiles, and tony cannot help but follow in his footsteps. The happiness the boy radiates is contagious.

 

They smile, like a couple of idiots staring at a pot of gold.    
The voice, for the first time in his life is quiet, perhaps even _ it _ has been struck dead by the force of the affection that was displayed.    
Or maybe. just maybe. Tony Stark finally allows himself to feel a glimmer of happiness.    
  
His hand travels up from the lower back where it was resting, it finds light brown curls and he tangles his fingers in it.    
Peter sighs and his eyes close, moving into the touch.    
  
The words fall from tony's lips before he can stop himself, before he can realize what they will mean. what will happen if he does.    
  
" _Stay... Please.._  "   
It's barely a whisper. his voice so hoarse he barely recognizes it as his own. but peter does, he smiles, and his eyes open again.    
" Yes "

 

They raise themselves from the couch. Peter holds his hand, intertwines their fingers, tony has to steady himself. Peter catches him, wraps an arm around the older man, it hurts his pride for a moment, but only a moment. peter is quick, he leans up against him and kisses his cheek before leading him to the bedroom. There he sits tony down, who watches as his now.. what.. lover? boyfriend? starts to clean up the vomit from this morning. willingly. Tony wants to help. but he gets told off. " No.. Tony.. i can take care of it. don't worry. "    
  
He makes the bed, clean sheets, clean pillows. He airs out the room.    
Tony watches, fascinated, as this 16 year old boy does things that for him are more than difficult. And right now even impossible.

 

When it's all done he takes tony's hands again, and raises him to his feet, tony follows, dumbfounded, awestruck, in shock.    
" Lay down.. don't worry.. i'm here. "    
  


Without resisting he lets peter guide him to the bed, and peter keeps his word, he doesn't leave, he doesn't run away. He stays.    
He crawls into bed with him, wraps himself around tony like he is the protector. And tony smiles again, sighs, as a huge weight is lifted from his shoulders.

 

"  _ I love you  _  " he says, and peter laughs, it is soft and harmless. Peter leans in and kisses him again, on the tip of his nose, and then his lips. And then his cheeks, anywhere he can reach before letting out a deep sigh of relief.    
" _ I love you too.. _ "

  
  



End file.
